


Find Something You Love, and Let It Kill You

by Gemini_Genie



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, mention of katara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Genie/pseuds/Gemini_Genie
Summary: It's been a few months since Zuko and Aang have had the opportunity to visit one another. So the Fire Lord makes an impromptu visit to the Southern Air Temple where Aang, Katara, and the Acolytes have all settled in the few years since the Harmony Restoration Movement was re-negotiated. Aang is not his usual self when Zuko arrives, and Katara is nowhere to be found. Having gone to visit Sokka in the South Pole, leaving Aang alone with their infant son, Bumi. Zuko helps Aang make sense of his newfound responsibilities as a father and husband. Or at least he tries to.
Relationships: Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: Zukaang





	Find Something You Love, and Let It Kill You

**Author's Note:**

> Aang never really gets to deal with the trauma he has surround the loss of his entire culture. It's touched on much more in the comics, but more as a way to just force him to accept it I feel. It's dismissed as old, fuddy-duddy tradition by friends, and completely disregarded as something that even matters by others. Aang is characterized as a rather negligent father in LOK, and this hurts me. So I wanted to write something a little different. Plus, I thought some Zukaang fluff would be nice.

Aang had been raised by the monks to not value material possessions. They corrupted the mind, and made enlightenment as an Air Nomad a virtually impossible state of being to achieve. Even gaining control over the Avatar State, years ago had required him to be willing to give up someone he loved. 

And so he tried to maintain as uncomplicated a life as possible, owning little but a few articles of clothing and personal items from his past. Like his glider and Bison whistle. Katara, the only person in his life he hadn’t been able to let go of...wasn’t partial to the lifestyle. She didn’t think a few sets of clothing were enough for him now they were older and “established” people called it. 

Their settlement in the Southern Air Temple for all intents and purposes...had become a sort of commune in the years since he’d accepted the Acolytes and begun teaching them about his culture. Every few months more people would show up in the outlands. And every few months a handful of those who came expressed interest in the Air Nomad lifestyle, prompting him to decide whether or not they could stay. 

It’s during one of these trial periods that it happens. As Aang is strolling leisurely through the common areas greeting the occupants new and old, an infant Bumi swaddled tight to his chest, that he hears the horn blow signifying an approaching force.

He sighs despite himself, hoping that it isn’t more wanderers. Searching for meaning they couldn’t find inside their own communities. As important to him as passing on Air Nomad traditions was...things had gotten significantly noisier in the last year since people besides him and Katara had come to live here. 

Following the sounding alarm, Aang speeds up to the lookout in one of the temple's higher towers. Carved by monks thousands of years ago with little but their bending to help them. Thick clouds and mist obscure his vision...and he has to squint to see the small reddish dot zooming towards them. Pointed out by the Acolyte standing next to him.

“Fire Nation”,she says, looking up at him, a tense expression on her face, and he nods, continuing to stare out at the fast approaching visitor. 

It was Zuko. He could tell by the long black tresses blowing around his head and the shiny, gold, fire shaped ornament sitting atop his ponytail. The crown of the Fire Nation royal family. Then of course, there was the scar. Easier and easier to see the closer he got. 

Reaching out a hand Aang pats the arm of the woman next to him, smiling kindly at her. “There’s no need to worry “, he tells her, turning to go. “He’s family. Blow the horn again and, if you would, let the other Acolytes know not to come too near mine and Katara’s quarters after dinner tonight.”

And then he’s off, speeding down towards the main landing. Covering Bumi’s little round, gurgling head with a part of the swaddle to keep bugs from slapping into his face. He gets there just in time to see Zuko landing gracefully in front of a group of onlookers on Druk’s sleek, wine red backside. 

“So he’s finally big enough to ride?”, Aang says loudly, mouth spreading into a smile. 

Zuko returns the look, but adds an eye roll, hooking his leg over and sliding off his saddle to the cerulean blue of the polished marble floor. He’s dressed casually, in black cotton pants with matching boots, curled at the toe, and a red short sleeve shirt with gold buttons down the front, rounded collar on the neck. 

Aang thought, as he looked at him that if it weren’t for how nicely fitted his shirt was in the chest, he’d be the spitting image of a fancy hotel busboy.

“To what do I owe the honor, Lord Zuko?”

Zuko responds by reaching out to pat baby Bumi’s head which only just poked up out of the swaddle. A soft babble greets his ears, a small fat fist following his extended hand when he draws it away. 

“I just missed you is all”, he says, and looks around warily at all the Acolytes milling around or taking the required steps to ensure Druk’s comfort, leading the dragon off toward the stables. 

He wants to reach out and really touch Aang. Caress his face and kiss him...but there seems to be so much going on. There are a lot more acolytes here than there were the last time he visited, and Zuko isn’t super comfortable showing affection in such a setting. It had been three months since Bumi was born, and all the time they’d had to skip Aang’s monthly, week-long visits to him in the Fire Nation. 

Not having him around for so long hurt Zuko, despite the logical part of his brain understanding it was necessary and proper for Aang to stay to help with his infant son. The much too dependent part of him is jealous and on fire with longing, and after three long months of no contact, he’d decided he had to come out on his own. Just for a little while.

Zuko’s ruminations are cut off by the feeling of a cold palm snaking its way around the back of his neck. Aang had no qualms about showing affection in public, and pulled him forward into a chaste kiss. Bumi wriggles in between them, looking up with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

“I missed you too”, Aang responds, letting him go after a moment, a soft expression on his face. “Let’s go in. I’ll put Bumi down for a nap, and then make you some tea. Katara’s off in the South Pole visiting Sokka right now. And we don’t really like doing the babysitter thing since we’re not sure if--.”

“If Bumi is a bender? Air Nomads don’t have a test for that?”, Zuko asks, following Aang up a stairway and into the main body of the temple. His hair, despite the stone walls surrounding them, still blows about gently as if being inside doesn’t matter. As if the very halls they walk through breathe.

“If there is...I don’t remember. It’s been so long.”

Zuko doesn’t ask Aang to elaborate. He knows what he means. He was still the world's only Air Bender. The last time he wasn’t was over 120 years ago now, and even then he’d been old enough to probably not really remember what was done to certify his status as a bender. That he was descended from people that had taken something so important from Aang’s life stung Zuko in a way he hated. Made him feel less than worthy of Aang’s attention. Katara frequently reminded him of his faults in private when they were all together. Digging her claws into him and his fragile ego. Making the sting worse. Why she’d ever agreed to share Aang with him in the first place was beyond Zuko. She didn’t seem to like him at all. Even after everything they’d been through she held a resentment towards him that didn’t seem to be able to be soothed by anything. 

“I’m sorry, Aang.”

“Don’t be. You had nothing to do with it.”

There the conversation lies for the next half-hour as Zuko potters around Aang and Katara’s messy, but homey makeshift kitchen. He knows where the tea is kept, having been inside enough times to know, and courteously sets the pot on the old, iron, wood stove in the center of the room. Loading it with a few small logs before blowing in flame to light it. He’s only just relaxed enough to sit down when Aang enters the room, surprised at the steam rising from the pot on the stove.

There are no rich, red velvet couches with gold trimming here. Just large canvas covered poofs of flying bison and koala sheep wool. It’s comfy, but makes for an awkward sit. Zuko’s leaning back much farther than he wants to, and doesn’t like the fact that his feet don’t touch the ground, and seeing his disgruntled expression, Aang chuckles, making his way over to the cabinet that held all the mugs, pulling out a couple finger dented, handmade pieces, glazed in blues and greens.

“Sugar?”, he asks, looking over his shoulder at his friend, who had given up trying to sit properly and just let himself sink into the poof as if it were a bed.

“I want it the consistency of syrup”, Zuko responds, emphasizing the word syrup, and then it’s Aang’s turn to roll his eyes.

“You’re gonna end up with denchers one day I’m telling you. But whatever.”

“I’m rich. I can afford to not have teeth”, and at this they both laugh, Aang nearly dropping both cups on his way over to Zuko’s poof, climbing up on top of it next to him.

It’s breezy, as it is everywhere in the temple, and the heat that radiates from Zuko makes Aang shiver in a not unpleasant way as he works to finish his tea, silver grey eyes locked on the view outside the window adjacent to them. If Katara was coming home...it would usually be about now. Just as the sun is starting to sink behind the mountains. Katara had left only a note to communicate her wish to visit family for a few weeks. 

She wanted to be away from him, and he couldn’t blame her.

When he’s had his fill of tea, Aang sets his glass on the small table near his and Zuko’s shared sitting spot. Then he turns and lays himself heavily over Zuko's smaller frame. Indicating without words he wanted to be held. The last vestiges of ultra-sugary tea are gulped down, and the Fire Lord complies, wrapping his arms around the young monk and squeezing tight. Slipping his heated hands underneath the loosely tied robes Aang wears to get at his back. Kneading his fingertips into the flesh he’s able to get a hold of. Massaging him.

Silence settles between them, and for a long time they just lay there together, nuzzling one another occasionally. Shyly pressing noses to bare skin to take in scent when they think the other isn’t looking. For a little while, they’re able to forget the complexities of their life arrangement. Aang is able to forget, at least for the moment, the guilt he feels over having driven his wife away.

“I really wanna be a good father, Zu”, he whispers, and Zuko looks down at him, brows furrowed.

“You are. Bumi loves you. And so will any other children you have.”

“If I have anymore.”

“What makes you think you won’t?”

Because Katara is angry with me. Because she hates me. Or at least she should. It’s the simplest, vaguest response Aang thinks to give. A way to avoid a long, drawn out emotional conversation. But Aang doesn’t go that route, remaining silent in Zuko’s arms for longer than the conversation is able to withstand. His eyes are wide, spreading in an unconscious effort to keep away tears he knows are coming, words from Katara’s letter echoing in his mind.

I’m scared I won’t ever be able to give you what you want Aang. That I’ll never be able to give you the Air Bender child I know you want. I don’t write this to hurt you...to make you feel bad. It’s important to me--more important than it probably should be to make that happen for you. I love you so much. Forgive me. I’ll be back in two weeks.

K

Fingers descend to his tear streaked face, wiping them away, and it's only then he feels them. The sticky, salty droplets welling in the corner of his eyes and obscuring his vision. He wanted what being married was a promise of...sometimes even more than he wanted the marriage itself. He wanted his people back. His culture. Air Nomad culture, which he’d been carefully trying to cultivate through his relationship with the acolytes. It was the one thing—the single part of himself he had never been able to let go of his love for. 

“Aang...talk to me”, comes Zuko’s voice, and again Aang doesn’t respond to his attempts to soothe him, his body beginning to tremble with the amount of regret and self-loathing coursing through him. 

Unable to hold back any longer, Aang squeezes his eyes shut tight, more and more tears finding their way out of him and into the crook of Zuko’s neck. A sob escapes him, and a concerned Zuko flips the two of them over onto their sides, staring into Aang’s eyes as he cries.

“I’m selfish”, Aang says and Zuko shakes his head no, cupping his friend and lovers face with both hands. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Aang was the most giving, generous person he’d ever met, next to his Uncle. He’d put his life on the line countless times for others and if asked would surely do so again.

“You’re not”, Zuko says, bringing up a hand and laying it on Aang’s chest, just below the collar bone. He’s trembling, and instinctively Zuko begins his breathing exercises, holding Aang tight against him. Listening to his occasional sniffles as he works to warm him. 

“What makes you think that? That you’re selfish?”

Aang doesn’t say anything to Zuko for a while, letting silence pass through the room they were in. He’s not sure how to express what he’s feeling. Not sure how to say what he needs to to have it not come out wrong. But the warmth emanating from Zuko’s body, and the arms wrapped around him are comforting, reassuring. So he speaks, pushing away the fear of judgement.

“Because I miss them Zuko. My people. Monk Gyatso. All my childhood Air bender friends. They’re gone and so is everything having to do with our lifestyle and culture. Everything...except for me.”

“I was taught by the Monks that holding onto material possessions—even the coveting of a loved one is something that has to be sacrificed in order to achieve enlightenment. I’ve tried my entire life to let go. There was even a time when we were kids that I tried to push myself to let go of Katara. Of you.”

Zuko pales, lips thinning at the phraseology Aang uses at the end. His mind floods with images of Yu Dao, the old Fire Nation colony and the war he’d nearly started over it. He’d made Aang promise to kill him all those years ago if he started to go bad like his father, and as with his father, Aang had chosen to spare him. Rescuing him from a painful death at the bottom of a chasm.

That it was done of love as much as it was duty was something Zuko to this day didn’t understand or believe himself worthy of. He’d hunted Aang for more than a year in an attempt to restore his honor. Hurt people close to him, and still, somehow...he’d found room in his heart for him. 

“I can’t”, Aang says. “It’s too hard to just let go of people in my life. People I love. Like the Air Nomads. The ones I abandoned..who aren’t here anymore. Making Katara carry the weight of that along with me is far from fair, I know that. But…”

“You’ve been letting her do it anyway. In the hopes that one, or all of the children you have together can replace some of what you lost”, Zuko says, finishing for Aang. 

He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of Aang’s head.

“It’s not wrong to miss your family, Aang. It’s not wrong to want to hold onto people you love either. I know that’s contradictory to what you were taught, and in some cases probably even feels like a slap in the face to your people to not be able to maintain that element of your culture. But your circumstances are different now. Choose what you think is good for you. You’re the Avatar. Your life was never going to be a walk in the park.”

“And what’s your advice on marriage? ”, comes Aang’s soft reply, pressing his face into the nape of Zuko’s neck. 

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. Maybe...maybe you and Katara living here isn’t the best thing for the two of you. Maybe you should move outside of Air Nomad territory. So you can focus on other things. Your acolytes seem to do a pretty good job taking care of the Southern Air temple. Why not leave it to them? At least for a while anyway.”

Zuko replays everything he’s said in his mind, over and over again in search of anything insensitive. Anything that could be misconstrued as an insult. Aang hadn’t really explicitly asked for his opinion. Not at first. He’d asked for affection first and foremost, and looking at him, Zuko wonders if he’s failed the moment.

Aang lies still and unmoving, expression the very picture of misery, peering up at Zuko unblinkingly. All he can think to do is smile down at him, and continue trying to soothe the anxiety he saw brewing in the younger man's eyes.

Zuko wasn’t married. And he didn’t think he ever would be. Mai had broken up with him a long time ago, and even if he wanted to there would never be any mending their relationship. Too much had happened. Too much had changed. Between him and Aang especially, their feelings for each other coming out in the most embarrassing of ways years ago back in Ba Sing Se. Both of them drunk and emotional, floundering around in his Uncle’s Tea shoppe playing at lovemaking. 

He didn’t know if the advice he was giving Aang was right. If telling him to move away from his ancestral home was the best thing for his and Katara’s young marriage. He just knew he hated to see the Air Bender so down in the face. So clearly lost. 

“You’re my God.”

The whispered words come back to him, and Zuko feels himself flush. Remembering the moment he let them slip as he lay on a table in the dark. The only light in the room a couple of crystal lanterns hanging from the sale counter. Aang enters him slowly, hands holding tight to his hips. Nails leaving behind bloody crescents in his pale flesh. He remembered saying it the morning after, afraid he’d be pushed away, and had acted foolishly. Forgetting how much he’d had to drink and nearly vomiting in Appa’s saddle on the way back to the Fire Nation. Back to his crazy sister and evil father that Zuko didn’t confide in him about until later. To his surprise...Aang had reacted similarly to Mai to being told everything so late in the game. The one difference being he didn’t leave after their argument about it. He stayed with him in the palace for a little over a month, and during that time they rehashed everything they’d discussed in Ba Sing Se in the dimly lit parlor. 

Zuko no longer looked at love like a proverbial ball and chain. Like something he was a slave to. It was more than that. Better than that. It was an exercise in patience. In acceptance, and sacrifice. The latter of which, like Aang, he had difficulty with. The difference between them however...was that Zuko was content to let his love bloom. 

He was content to let it kill him. So long as in the afterlife the two of them didn’t always have to be separate. 

“Thanks Zuko”, comes Aang’s voice after what seemed an interminable amount of time. Calmer, a little less melancholy. “Thanks for coming to be with me.”

“Yeah of course. I love being around you.”

“And I, you Flameo Hotman.”

End


End file.
